Of Foxes and Psychics
by AceAmir
Summary: A nearly-blind braixen deals with losing everything, and fights to survive. A trainer and his slowking work to master the psychic type, and seek a new teammate to aid them. Together, they...mostly don't get along to be honest.
1. Burnt Matchstick

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** This is a non-profit fan work set in the Pokemon universe. Pokemon is owned by Nintendo, Gamefreak, and HAL Laboratories.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Burnt Matchstick**

* * *

The grass below was wet. An outstretched paw felt the rough texture of tree bark. It hadn't rained, which meant the wetness could be the dew of early morning. Or maybe it was still night? How long had she been running? Either way, she was still in the forest. Still in familiar territory.

The small bipedal fox collapsed to the ground, gasping and panting for breath. Miraculously, she'd managed to stumble her way through the forest and evade her pursuers. She had run—just as her father had instructed. For the moment, she was safe.

Without the fear of capture and the adrenaline of a chase, the last of the braixen's resolve finally crumbled, as did her body against the trunk of the tree. Several thoughts flowed at once. Her friends were gone. Her parents were likely captured. She had nowhere to go, and nobody to turn to.

She was alone.

With a single white paw, she reached up and felt around her face, eventually finding the scars formed over her right eye. She knew from touch, from the dense knots of tissue where there should have been fur, that it was gruesome-looking. The day she had received that scar was also the day she'd lost most of her sight; her "good" eye was limited to nondescript, fuzzy blobs, and the ruined eye flooded what little vision she had with an endless bombardment of light and color as her brain tried to compensate for the severed connection.

This would be the first time since that accident she would have to manage on her own. The realization sent a shiver down her spine. Fear, dread, frustration, and an immeasurable sadness mixed together to form a cauldron of emotion which bubbled and frothed within, bringing the young vixen to the precipice of despair.

Sheer exhaustion was her saving grace—as it was she was too tired to dwell on her situation. And so, taking comfort in her momentary safety, Braixen curled up against a thick root, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

An indeterminable amount of time passed, the gold-and-white fox drifting between fitful rest and somber consciousness. Then, there was a low rumble from her gut, and for the first time she became aware of the dryness in her mouth. She needed food and water.

Groggily, Braixen forced herself to her feet and started feeling around for a berry bush. She couldn't really tell the time, but she guessed from the dryness of the grass and extra brightness of her vision that it was somewhere between mid-morning and early afternoon.

As she searched, her thoughts drifted to her mother. She was a delphox, tall and graceful, fur coat like a crimson robe wrapped around her gold-and-white torso. She'd been particularly supportive of her after the accident, a much needed comfort in a time where her entire perception of reality had changed.

She recalled a time not too long ago when they were picking berries together in the forest. Although Braixen couldn't carry anything without tripping over herself, she could at least prod the bushes with her stick, calling out to her mother whenever she found something. She'd just discovered what felt like oran berries, and soon her mother was there gathering as many as she could carry, leaves rustling loudly with her every touch.

At first Braixen was content to sit there, listening to the wind in the trees and the sound of her mother's humming, but something had been troubling her the last few days. _"Hey mom,"_ she started, trepidation in her voice, _"is…dad mad at me?"_

The rustling stopped, and Braixen suspected her mother was staring at her. _"Of course not!"_ she replied in earnest. _"What makes you think that?"_

Braixen sighed. _"I don't know, he just seems…upset, all the time now. He doesn't talk to me as much as before, and it all started when I…"_

The sentence hung in the air, its conclusion unnecessary. Suddenly, Braixen felt her mother's arms wrap around her. _"He's not mad at you dear, just worried,"_ she said while pulling her daughter into an embrace. _"You should know by now what a worrywart he is; and unfortunately, he has a lot to worry about right now."_

Gentle claws stroked the top of her head, eliciting a purr from the smaller fox. _"You mean the humans, right? Pansear says he's been talking to some pidgey, and that they saw a bunch of humans in the forest."_

" _Yes. All pokemon are special, but you, your father and I are rarer than other species. There are some humans that will go to great lengths to capture us."_

Braixen nodded, and considered that for a moment. _"Hey mom, are humans as bad as dad says they are?"_

The stroking stopped, the delphox deciding how to answer her daughter. _"Not all of them, no,"_ she said. _"As I told you before, they hold a great deal of power over us—the pokemon under their care are strong, and they can capture and contain us in a device they call a 'pokeball'."_

Braixen nodded—she recalled the description of a tiny ball, half white and half red, that could grow in size and open up to suck other pokemon inside.

" _Most are perfectly fine with keeping to themselves and allowing other pokemon to come to them. But the humans that_ don't _keep to themselves—the ones that wander, searching for pokemon to catch—they are the dangerous ones."_

" _I see…"_ Braixen replied. _"So the humans that the pidgey saw…do you think they're looking for us? Is it because I—?"_

" _It's not something you should dwell on,"_ the mother delphox assured her. _"We're deep in the forest, far away from any of their settlements. And so long as your father and I are around, nobody is going to lay a paw on my little allumette."_

" _Mooooooom! I told you to stop calling me that!"_ Braixen barked half-heartedly.

" _But it's what you are,"_ the delphox said teasingly as she tickled her daughter's side, earning a surprised giggle from the little fox. _"You're my little allumette, fiery and bright, and no matter how old you get that will always be true…"_

Something wet fell on her paw. Braixen was back in the present, suddenly aware that at some point in her reminiscing she had started crying. She wiped away the tears with a paw and refocused herself. She'd have time to reflect later.

Above her, the fletchling and pidgey of the forest chirped excitedly to one another. The various birds were prone to gossip, and with the commotion of last night they had plenty to talk about.

" _Did you hear about what happened?"_

" _There were humans in the forest and—"_

"— _smoke and fire everywhere! I even heard that—"_

"— _missing! Some are wondering if—!"_

Braixen did her best to ignore them, but every now and then they would notice and comment on the young fire type instead. Most of it was variations of "Why was she here?" and "Where did she come from?" but there was one conversation in particular that stood out.

" _Who is that?"_ a young pidgey asked while Braixen was feeling through another potential berry bush.

" _I don't know, haven't seen her around before,"_ an older-sounding pidgey replied.

" _Do you think she was a part of that flock attacked last night?"_ said a fletchling.

" _Might explain her eye. Those humans must have done a number on her."_

" _Humans are foul creatures,"_ an elder fletchinder said definitively.

" _Poor thing. I think she's been blinded. Did you see the way she was shuffling about with her stick a moment ago?"_

" _How tragic,"_ the fletchinder said. _"She's a rare one too—a 'braixen' I think they're called? Might have found a human to take her in, but with that scar on her face ain't none of them going to have a use for her."_

Braixen wasn't feeling around through the bushes as quickly as before.

" _Quiet you!"_ said the older pidgey. _"What if she hears you? What a horrible thing to say!"_

" _It's the truth though,"_ the fletchinder replied nonchalantly. _"Those humans only care about one thing—fighting! They capture us, train us for battle, and then compete against one another as if it were a sport."_

" _And you_ don't _like a good fight, Fletchinder?"_

" _It's not the same—they're absolutely obsessed, and the crazy thing is, so are their pokemon! But look at her—she can't even find food, much less defend herself! She'd be utterly useless to a human."_

Braixen wasn't trying to find berries anymore. Instead, she was listening to the flying types above her, body shaking and fists tightening with every word the fletchinder spoke.

" _It's not that I don't feel sorry for her, because I do,"_ Fletchinder continued, him and his roost oblivious to the fox below them, _"but facts are facts. Mark my words, within a month's time she'll be dead, either from starvation or because some other pokemon decided to—"_

" _SHUT UP!"_ In one swift motion, she plucked the stick from her tail, turned to face the general direction of the flying types, and fired off a pulsating beam of psionic energy into the trees above. There was a loud _boom_ , followed by an ominous crack and a satisfying thudas the large tree branch gave way and fell.

"… _see, what did I tell you?"_ Fletchinder said, from a completely different tree branch far away from where Braixen had fired her Psybeam. _"Come on, we better leave before she manages to get a lucky hit."_

The flock of flying types took off, wings beating furiously against the air, and soon Braixen was alone again. She felt the stick in her outstretched arm grow heavy. It lowered, slowly, dangling at her side for a moment before she dropped it completely and fell to the ground sobbing.

She stayed that way for several minutes. The only thing that stopped her was the growl of her stomach, louder this time, urging her to find sustenance. Wiping away the tears with a paw, she used the other to feel around for her stick—which she quickly found and returned to its rightful place in her tail. Braixen got back to her feet and made to resume her search.

Her ears twitched at the sound of wings flapping, and she instinctively turned and looked up. The sound continued, until—she realized with a start—something was hovering right in front of her.

" _Hi,"_ a small bird chirped. _"Sorry, you probably can't tell, but I was one of the pidgey from a few moments ago. I'm…_ really _sorry about what Fletchinder said before. That was awful of him, and I wish I could take it back…"_

Braixen didn't know what to make of that. _"Um…thank you…I guess."_

" _There's a river nearby, if you want me to lead you to it,"_ the pidgey offered hastily. _"And close to that, some berry bushes too. I know it doesn't make up for what Fletchinder said, but…"_

Now Braixen _really_ didn't know what to say. _"You…really, you don't have to do all of that. I can manage on my—"_

" _But I want to!"_ the pidgey insisted. _"It's only a few minutes from here—you probably would have found it on your own anyway. I'm just saving you time, that's all."_

Braixen felt her eyes moisten with fresh tears and wiped them away with her arm. _"Thank you,"_ she said with a sniffle.

" _No problem,"_ the pidgey said sincerely. _"Just…please, don't let what he said get to you, okay?"_

A smile stretched across her face—the first genuine moment of happiness she'd felt since last night. _"I won't,"_ she promised.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So what began as a small plot bunny and an exercise to see if I could write something from the POV of a mostly-blind character has evolved into its own story. This ought to be fun.

Feedback is appreciated, especially considering the experimental nature of this fic. Turns out, it's _really hard_ to describe something from the perspective of someone who can't see properly. It's oddly kind of fun though.


	2. Understand Yourself

**Chapter 2: Understand Yourself**

* * *

 _Drip._

Something cold just hit her—something cold and wet. Braixen stirred, curling up tighter and burrowing deeper into the bushy tail wrapped around her.

 _Drip._

It happened again, eliciting a frustrated growl from the drowsy fire type. _"Fiy mur minus…"_ She grumbled incoherently.

 _Drip_.

Begrudgingly, Braixen opened her eyes and sat up underneath the cover of her tree. Rain pattered against the canopy of leaves above her—the source of the water droplets, and by extension her rude awakening.

Braixen uncurled, letting out a jaw-stretching yawn as she did so. A moment later and she was up on her feet and walking out into the rain.

She hadn't been idle the last few weeks. After Pidgey had guided her to this spot by the river and she'd gotten a feel for where everything was, the young fire type decided to start a training regimen. A part of that regimen was making sure to work on her fire type attacks whenever it was raining. The rain wouldn't _hurt_ her per se—she wasn't _that_ sensitive to water—but it would weaken her abilities and at the least make her uncomfortable. It also meant that if something caught fire it wouldn't _stay_ on fire for long—an obvious plus for someone who had trouble seeing what they were hitting.

Braixen pulled out her stick, took a deep breath, aimed it towards the river, and used Ember. A stream of fire poured from the tip of the stick—like a wizard casting magic from a wand—and filled her ruined vision with streaks of red and orange. The rain snuffed the gout of flame before it could even reach the ground, prompting an annoyed grunt from Braixen. She tried again, redoubling her efforts, determined to produce a stream hot enough to survive until reaching the water's edge. When that attempt failed, she tried again, and again, and eventually settled into a routine of repeatedly casting Ember.

After a while, her mind began to wander; back to the day she'd first learned how to use the attack. It had been bright and cloudless, and the contrast to her current predicament prompted an inward chuckle. She was also still a fennekin, and could recall with vivid clarity her father's bemused smile while she danced about the meadow making a fool of herself.

" _Ember!"_ she yelled fiercely, as if calling the attack would somehow will it into existence. _"Ember, I said! Ember, Ember, Emmmbeeeeer!"_

" _Calm down kiddo,"_ the male delphox chuckled as he rose from his spot against a nearby tree. _"Just_ yelling _the attack's name won't help you figure out how to use it any faster."_

The golden-furred fox huffed and turned to her father. _"But you're the one who told me to try yelling in the first place!"_ she pouted.

" _And you took me seriously?"_ Delphox asked, earning a frustrated glare from his daughter. _"Okay, okay—sorry! A bit more seriously though, some pokemon like to yell the attack name as a way to help them focus—but you still have to do the other things I told you to do."_ Delphox raised a brow and added, _"You_ do _remember what I told you, right?"_

With a sigh, Fennekin rattled off, _"'To use an attack I have to understand the attack. To understand the attack, I have to understand myself.' But what does that mean?"_

" _Well, that depends on the attack,"_ Delphox replied. _"In the case of Ember, it means finding the flame inside yourself—the flame that all fire types have—and using it to fuel your attack. You have to tap into its power, let it build up at a focal point, and then release it steadily over time."_

" _And how was I supposed to figure that out from all that…stuff?"_ Fennekin groaned and flopped onto the grass. _"Why is this so_ hard!? _I've been out here for hours and I_ still _haven't figured it out!"_

" _It takes time to learn new moves,"_ Delphox said as he sat down beside his daughter. _"The more you practice and the stronger you get, the easier_ _it becomes to learn new techniques. I know it seems like it's taking forever, but it'll pay off. You just have to keep trying, that's all."_

Fennekin looked the other way, sullen. _"What's the point?"_ she grumbled. _"It's not like I'll ever be as strong as you and mommy…"_

Delphox raised a brow. _"Oh? Why do you say that?"_

There was a pause as Fennekin turned her head back and really _looked_ at her father. Superficially, he seemed to be a carbon copy of her mother—fur robe and all. But while her mother was sleek and graceful, he was rugged and dignified. Where her features were soft, his were sharp. Yet despite these differences—differences Fennekin suspected pokemon outside her evolutionary family wouldn't even notice—they shared one thing in common.

" _You and mommy are just so strong,"_ Fennekin replied. _"I want to evolve and be like you! I want to pick things up with my paws, reach high-up places, move things with my brain, and…all the other things you can do!"_ Fennekin's ears drooped. _"But how can I hope to do that when I can't even figure out how to use Ember?"_

Delphox looked at his daughter, serious now, and considered his response. _"You know what your problem is? You're impatient."_ Fennekin gave him a look, but the elder fox continued, _"Evolving takes two things: time and effort. And if you really want to get specific, time is only a factor in so much that it passes by as you're putting in the effort. You won't get anywhere in life just wishing for things to happen. If you really want something—be it to learn a new move or to evolve—you have to work for it."_

Fennekin considered her father's answer. _"But what if I can't though? What if I_ can't _learn Ember or_ can't _evolve?"_

Delphox laughed. _"Okay, now you're just being silly. First of all, there's nothing physically preventing you from doing either of those things other than lack of experience—unless you swallowed an everstone when I wasn't looking. Second…"_ Delphox leaned in so that he was looking straight into her orange-red eyes. _"Fennekin, if you really put your mind to it there's_ nothing _you can't accomplish."_

Fennekin mulled over that for a several minutes. _"Do you mean it?"_ she eventually asked. _"Will I really be as strong as you and mommy some day?"_

Delphox smiled. _"I mean it."_

Fennekin nodded and smiled. With newfound determination, she rose from her spot and scampered a few yards away.

Braixen watched with her mind's eye as her younger self took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. She had to look inside herself…find her inner fire…tap into its power, let it build at a focal point. Yes, let it build…let the flame grow, fueled by the fiery passions of her emotions. Her father had promised that so long as she tried, so long as she put in enough _effort_ there was nothing she couldn't accomplish—no limit to her strength! Build that fire! Build that power—the power she could have had to protect her family and save her home! Let the inferno consume all until nothing was left and—!

Braixen roared as a monstrous torrent of flame erupted from her stick, filling her vision with pure crimson. The stream of fire not only reached the edge of the river but hit the water's surface, evaporating a huge chunk of it and causing an eruption of steam.

Panting, crying, Braixen dropped her stick and fell to her knees, unconcerned about the rain falling against her back. She stayed that way for several minutes, both catching her breath and trying to calm down.

And then she realized something: that wasn't Ember she'd used. That was Flamethrower! Braixen patted the ground for her stick, found it, and then got up to see if she could do the attack again. She held out her stick and fired off another burst of flame—much weaker than before. That was regular old Ember.

Braixen frowned. What had she done different to produce Flamethrower? She reflected on her emotions from a moment ago—in particular her anger—and decided to replicate them. She focused, thinking about her family, again. _This_ time the flame she produced was much stronger. It still wasn't as powerful as the original burst, but it was definitely a step in the right direction.

Braixen let out a shuddering sigh and started to make her way back to her tree to take a nap. She was done training for today.

* * *

When Braixen woke up, it became clear–in hindsight—that during her last training session she perhaps _might_ have overdone it. The first sign was the dull ache that permeated every inch of her body. Using an attack repeatedly, even one as basic as Ember, required a large amount of energy over time. Braixen had depleted a significant portion of her reserves and was now suffering the consequences.

The second sign was the loud rumble in her gut, and the realization that she had slept _at least_ an entire day and night.

Braixen put a paw to her stomach and let out a heavy sigh. Well, she couldn't do anything about the aching, but at least she could make the hunger go away.

A quick trip to the river and an even quicker trip to the berry bushes, and she was feasting on a small pile of succulent oran berries. She bit into the fruit, savoring itsflavor, all the while contemplating what she should do with herself today. Finding more food was probably a good idea; the berry bushes she'd been living off of were getting low, and better to search now while she still had a fallback.

As Braixen continued her meal, plotting the specifics of her expedition, she failed to notice a rustling in the bushes on the opposite end of the clearing. The rustling grew louder, finally catching the little fire fox's attention, and before she could react there were three voices speaking all at once:

"— _starvin'! I could eat a whole—"_

"— _told you I knew the way, you crooked-eared—"_

" _Wouldn't be the first time that you—"_

The three voices paused, and through the blurs of color Braixen could make out three globs of gray and brown. She got the feeling that they were staring at her, and—wishing not to start any trouble with her fellow wild pokemon—waved a paw at them and said, _"Um, good morning."_

" _Noon actually,"_ one of the three—a diggersby it sounded like—said curtly. _"What's a lil' fox like you doin' here by the river?"_

" _I-I've been living here,"_ Braixen replied. _"My family and I were chased out of our den by humans, and—"_

" _Humans? You must be one of pokemon caught in that fire the birds been squawking about,"_ said a second diggersby."

" _Ya know, I'm pretty sure she's a fire type,"_ piped the third. _"They say it was the humans that started it, but what if it were this one and her folks?"_

" _We did_ not _start that fire!"_ Braixen hissed angrily, rising to her feet. _"Don't you_ dare _blame my family for what the humans did! They—they destroyed everything…took away my parents…hurt my friends…"_ She had more to say, but was too choked up to put thoughts to words.

" _Whatever you say matchstick,"_ said the first diggersby, entirely nonchalant. His eyes must have wandered to the berry bush, because the next thing he said was a very angry-sounding, _"Who ate all of our berries?"_

Braixen froze, acutely aware of the pile of oran berries sitting at her feet. It didn't take long for them to notice, and the portly bipedal rabbits started to advance in unison.

" _You've been eatin' our berries,"_ said the second diggersby—not an accusation so much as an angry declaration.

" _I-I didn't know they were yours,"_ Braixen replied, taking a step away while simultaneously reaching for her stick. She knew their claim was ludicrous—other pokemon had come and gone, which meant this was open territory—but that didn't matter when there were three of them and only one of her. _"I was tired and hungry, and a pidgey led me here and—"_

" _Those were_ our _berries!"_ said the third diggersby as he and his two friends approached. _"Everyone in the forest knows we come here to eat them berries every now and then, but you ate all but a few of them!"_

" _I-I'm sorry, I really am, but—!"_

" _First ya try ta burn down half the forest, then you eat all our food,"_ said the first. _"I guess we're just gonna have ta teach you a lesson…"_

Braixen pulled out her stick and fired off a Psybeam. It lanced forward and struck one of the diggersby in the gut, knocking him down and distracting his comrades. Braixen turned tail and ran, knowing full well she couldn't beat them and hoping she might be able to lose them in the forest.

" _After her!"_ screamed one of the diggersby. Braixen ignored him and focused on trying to run as fast as she could without tripping. Several somethings whizzed past her head—globs of Mud Shot—but she decided to ignore it and hope their aim wouldn't improve.

A wall of gray appeared in front of her. _"Where do ya think_ you're _goin'?"_ asked a diggersby as he rose from the ground and struck her with one of his ears. The arm-like appendage knocked her back a good distance away and was followed up by two full-body tackles from her other assailants.

Braixen lay on the ground, stunned and disoriented from the combination of attacks, and then there was a heavy weight on her chest. _"You aren't goin' anywhere now,"_ said a diggersby, the other two behind him, as he shifted some of his weight to the foot pinning Braixen to the ground.

" _Get…off…"_ Braixen wheezed. She tried to wiggle out from underneath, but all that did was prompt the heavier rabbit to push even harder.

" _Yeah that's right, squirm! This'll teach ya' to take what don't belong to you!"_ The other two pokemon yelled their agreement, and then he shifted even more of his weight down, further restricting Braixen's ability to breath and coming dangerously close to cracking her ribcage.

The longer he crushed her, the more frantically Braixen struggled, until finally she reached for her stick, and pointed it at the diggersby's face. _"I said,_ GET OFF! _"_

Braixen used Flamethrower, scorching the Digging pokemon's face and eliciting a scream of pain. Once again, the other two pokemon were too busy tending to their teammate to immediately give chase, and Braixen was finally able to put some distance between them.

She put everything she had into running, doing her best to ignore the stabbing pain in her sides and the bruise on her chest. As she ran, her ears picked up a low rumble—which became a steady rush, and then a mighty roar. Braixen entered a clearing, stopped, and after a moment of panting let out a frustrated growl—she was back by the river! Behind her, she could hear distant shouts—the diggersby weren't far behind.

What could she do? Crossing the river was out of the question, and her chances of slipping away from the diggersby a third time were slim. She glanced at the stick in her paws…she was utterly exhausted, and _maybe_ had the strength for one more attack.

Braixen looked at her stick, and then at the noisy blue blur behind her. The Fox pokemon took a deep breath, getting ready for what was probably her only means of escape.

She approached the river, careful not to step over the edge, and waited. She didn't wait long; as two of the three diggersby emerged from the bushes, Braixen held out her stick—alight with flame—and turned to face her pursuers.

" _You stupid fox—you almost blinded him!"_ shouted a diggersby. _"I'm gonna' tear you to pieces for what you did!"_

Braixen winced, but quickly regained herself and said, _"Do you even know why you're doing this anymore? I'm sorry I ate your stupid berries, but this is going_ way _too far!"_ She pointed the stick towards them and added, _"Just…_ please, _leave me alone!"_

" _No!"_ yelled the other diggersby. _"You've done made us mad,_ and _you hurt a nest brother! We're gonna' beat you senseless until we feel like the score is settled!"_ Thus said, the two wild pokemon let out a shrill screech and rushed her.

A stream of fire erupted from the tip of the stick and hit the ground a few yards away, detonating as a small, fiery explosion. The attacking pokemon stopped their charge, coughing and wheezing from the smoke, and when it finally cleared Braixen was gone.

" _Where the hell did she go?"_ asked one of the diggersby.

" _I don't have the faintest idea,"_ admitted the other. _"The only place she coulda gone was in the river, but surely she weren't_ that _crazy, was she? I mean, a fire type swimmin' in currents like that…"_

" _I guess it don't matter,"_ the first replied. _"Either she's escaped or she's done drowned herself—either way, nothin' we can do about it."_

The diggersby left to tend to their friend back in the forest. Downriver, a speck of gold came out of the water, managed to stay afloat for a few seconds, and then disappeared below the surface just as quickly as it appeared.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Well, that got really nasty really fast.

It's been a ride writing this chapter. Lots of rewriting and rethinking, mainly in regards to making sure things don't get _too_ melodramatic. I think I managed to find a balance, but I leave it to you the reader to give the final verdict.

Also, the feedback I've gotten already has been amazing for a new fic, so thank you guys for that! :)


	3. A New Start

**Chapter 3: A New Start**

* * *

Braixen awoke with a start, coughing and hacking and gasping for air. The ground was soft and muddy, kept moist by waves like the one washing over her now. A great waterfall—the mouth of the river emptying into a deep blue lake—roared in the background, kicking up a fine mist of spray that gave everything a kind of musty smell.

Braixen crawled away from the lake's edge and into a patch of tall grass, still coughing but already breathing easier. Despite everything that had happened, she felt oddly triumphant; the river had tried its best to drown her, and when that didn't work had resorted to hoping gravity and sharp rocks at the bottom would do the rest. Yet she was still alive—a little waterlogged and _very_ bruised, but alive nonetheless.

 _"Take that, water…"_ she mumbled wearily.

A gust of wind swept across the lakefront and sent a shiver down the soaked vixen's spine. Braixen got to her feet to shake herself dry, and then took a look at her new surroundings. It was easy enough to know where the lake was—a big blob of blue in a sea of green and brown—but otherwise she knew absolutely nothing about this place.

Starting over was aggravating—it had taken a few _days'_ worth of poking and prodding to figure out where everything was!—but it couldn't be helped. With a heavy sigh, Braixen reached for the stick in her tail.

…and found a whole lot of air where the stick should have been.

Braixen's eyes widened. She searched every inch of her tail looking for the tool, and when that failed resorted to patting the ground and clawing through the mud. It was with dawning, resentful realization that she thought of the river's currents, and that it was likely her stick had been swept away by them.

It wasn't unusual for a braixen to get upset over a lost stick. Her mother had explained as much when Braixen first evolved, emphasizing the feeling of calm the tool brought to their species. It ultimately wasn't a big deal—all she had to do was find a suitable replacement (not a difficult task considering her surroundings) and all would be right in the world.

Except it wasn't _just_ that she'd lost a stick. She didn't have a home. Her friends and family were gone. That stick was _literally_ the only thing she had left. And now it was at the bottom of a river—or a lake, depending on _when_ and _where_ she lost it—meaning that she would never see it again.

Braixen went into a rage, kicking and screaming and cursing out everything she could think of. Had she retained possession of her stick, she might have torched the entire lakeside just for the hell of it—and knowing that option wasn't available _because she didn't have her damned stick_ made her even angrier. Hindered in her ability to spit actual fire, she settled for the metaphorical and began ranting about anything and everything she could think of.

 _"Stupid diggersby and their stupid berry bush—why did they even care so much about it!? They weren't using it, and it's not like those gelatinous, funny-eared jerks needed the food! Not to mention they were dumb as bricks—almost as dumb as that hypocritical fletchinder from a few weeks ago! 'Humans are foul creatures.' Well you weren't exactly the epitome of empathy yourself,_ were you!? _"_

As she ranted, Braixen paced back and forth, occasionally pausing to kick the ground and send chunks of dirt and grass into the air. _"He wasn't wrong though—humans_ are _foul creatures! It didn't_ matter _that we were keeping to ourselves and leaving them alone._ Oh no, _they just_ had _to find us—just_ had _to ruin_ everything! _Because that's what they do—they ruin everything they touch, twist and warp all the pokemon they capture into their own little personal bodyguards, sic them against their fellow pokemon, make them fight for their own amusement! Yeah, well, one of these days I'm going to find a human, and then we'll just_ see _how amused they are when I'm CLAWING THEIR FUCKING EYES OUT!"_

An entire flock of flying types took off in a flurry of wing beats, startled by the screaming fire type. Braixen listened to them leave—panting all the while—and then fell backwards into the tall grass.

Another gust blew across the lakefront, cooled and moistened by the body of water. Braixen felt the grass move against her fur, tickling slightly as it swayed in the breeze. Despite the waterfall roaring in the background, she could make out other sounds: magikarp jumping in and out of the water, bugs buzzing in the forest, and a few pidgey cawing in the distance. Late afternoon sunlight poured from above, bathing the fire type and invigorating her with its warmth.

Braixen took a deep breath, held it, and let it out as a heavy sigh. What was she going to do now…?

Given that "staring at the sky and never getting up" wasn't a viable answer, Braixen got to her feet and started walking towards the wall of green and brown that was the rest of the forest. Her plan was simple: find a new stick, get food, and return to the lake. So long as she walked in a straight path she'd be able to find her way back, and the sooner she found a stick the sooner she'd stop feeling the urge to strangle a baby fletchling. Short, sweet, and simple, right?

It was at that moment—lost in her musings and self-assurances—that Braixen promptly walked into a tree and fell over backwards. She got back to her feet and glared at the offending flora, growling and rubbing her snout as she did so. With white-glowing claws, Braixen attacked the tree with Scratch and left three long gashes embedded in the bark. Satisfied by her admittedly petty revenge, the fire type circled around and continued deeper into the forest.

* * *

 _"This one's too short…this one's too crooked…oh wow, is this a tree branch? It's way too thick!"_

With a heavy sigh, the piece of deadwood was tossed in the general direction of the "reject" pile Braixen had accumulated in the past twenty minutes. She needed a stick that was long enough she could tap the ground without hunching over, but short enough and thin enough to be manageable. Finding one that met her criteria should have been simple—the ground was practically covered in dead limbs and broken branches. And in a way, that was part of the problem…

Braixen rose from bent knees and decided to move on, justifying the decision with the fact that she was wasting time and that she'd have a better chance of finding the proper stick elsewhere in the forest. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she was being too picky, but…well, what did it matter, so long as she eventually found the right stick?

Hours passed as Braixen alternated between looking for a stick and trying to navigate the forest, interspersed with the occasional search for something to eat. Neither items were anywhere to be found, and it was surprising how difficult it was just to walk around without her tool. She could kind-of-sort-of make out silhouettes up close, but it wasn't enough to save her from tripping over the occasional tree root, or falling into the odd ditch or two.

…or stubbing her toe on a large rock, as she discovered upon contact with the offending mound of stone. _"Son of a…trubbish-loving…piece of…ergh!"_ Braixen growled while cradling her stubbed toe and hopping in place on one foot. Lacking proper depth-perception, however, she promptly slipped and fell for what was probably the tenth or so time that evening.

 _"I'm getting really sick of this,"_ Braixen mumbled as she got back up. Even without her stick, she shouldn't be having this much trouble just walking around; she'd outrun a pack of diggersby for Arceus' sake! Which actually raised a good question: how _did_ she run from the diggersby without tripping over herself? Was it the terrain? Providence? Blind luck? Braixen groaned at her accidental pun and decided it was something to think about later.

A breeze blew through the forest, and suddenly Braixen was aware of just how much _colder_ it was now. Was it almost night time? It did seem darker than before. Exactly how long had she been walking? Could she make it back to the lake before sunset?

Wait, which way _was_ the lake?

For the second time that day, Braixen had a panic-inducing realization—she was lost. A rumble from her stomach reminded her that not only was she lost, she hadn't found any food. And she _still didn't have a damn stick!_

The wind blew again, this time carrying with it an odd scent. It smelled…burnt and smoky, but there was something else there as well. Something that smelled _delicious_.

Braixen followed the scent, so fixated that she didn't notice the grace with which she ducked and weaved over and under the bushes, rocks, and low-hanging branches. The scent was getting stronger, as was her curiosity ( _and_ appetite), and before long Braixen found herself at the edge of a small clearing. At its center was a glowing red and orange light—a small fire, both the source of the smoke and inexplicably the source of the enticing smell.

There was something else there as well—two somethings actually, one white and one pink. Braixen managed to stop herself mid-stride and ducked into the tall grass, hoping that they wouldn't notice the noise.

They didn't, and the fire type allowed herself a sigh of relief. Okay, so there were two wild pokemon—what kind she didn't know—sitting around a fire with some kind of food. Best case scenario, she approached them, carefully asked if they were willing to share, and they did. Worst case, they got angry at her and she had to run and hide from two engorged pokemon who would probably give up as soon as she disappeared from view. All contingencies accounted for, Braixen got up and made to enter the clearing and enact her plans.

"That was really good, Regi!" said a distinctly _non_ -pokemon voice. "You've gotten really good at making that soup."

"I do my best," replied another voice, calm, mellow, and _also_ not belonging to a pokemon. "Honestly Hayden, it's just potatoes and vegetables—hardly worth praise."

Braixen ducked back into the tall grass, heart racing so hard she felt like it was about to explode. Humans. There were humans here! There were humans here, in the forest, sitting around a fire just ten or so feet away from her, and she had _almost walked out to say hello to them!_

 _"Stupid, stupid, stupid-stupid-stupid!"_ she hissed under her breath, pulling at her fur and doing everything she could not to panic. Should she run away? Could she _sneak_ away? They didn't know she was here, but one wrong move and… No, she was going to sit still and be _quiet_ and wait for them to either go away or go to sleep. Anything else was too risky.

"Yeah…but you're really good at it," the first human argued, both him and his friend completely unaware that the fire type was listening. "I mean, you do such a good job of picking out the ingredients, and you add all those spices, and you get it _just_ right, and—"

"And it's not your cooking," Regi said playfully.

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Just that your culinary concoctions require caution when consuming," Regi replied coolly.

"…I hate it when you start alliterating," Hayden said with a tone of voice that implied intimate familiarity with his friend's word games. "And yeah, I get it, my cooking sucks."

"Not trying to put you down Hayden, just making an observation."

"Bah!" Hayden replied, probably with a dismissive wave of the hand.

It was quiet after that—presumably the two humans were just sitting around and enjoying the fire. Sunset had come and gone, leaving everything bathed in darkness save the circle of light the fire provided.

Just as Braixen was reconsidering sneaking away, the humans started talking again. "I'm going to go gather some branches for the fire real quick," Hayden announced. "I'm not going far, but I figured I'd let you know."

"Yeah…go ahead," Regi answered absentmindedly.

Braixen watched his silhouette walk off (thankfully not in her direction) and return a few minutes later holding an armful of deadwood. He sat it by the fire, tossed a few pieces in, and then resumed his spot next to his friend.

Another moment of silence, and then Regi cleared his throat. "You know, Hayden…we _have_ been out here for three weeks now. Are you sure you want to keep looking?"

Hayden let out a heavy sigh—evidently this was a question he'd been asked frequently. "We've been over this—we need more teammates. I know it's a lot of effort just to find two specific pokemon, but I know it'll be worth it in the end."

"And yet, the time we've spent searching _could_ have been spent training," Regi replied. "Besides Hayden, those delphox have a home, trying to sway them seems s—"

"And you already know how I'm going to handle that," Hayden replied. "Look, I understand what you're saying, but this is _going_ to work Regi. I _know_ it will!"

Regi let out a tired sigh. "As you wish Hayden."

Braixen's heart jumped into her throat. They were looking for delphox…had _been_ looking for delphox for the past three weeks. Were these the same humans from before or a different group? Had her parents escaped? Did the humans have one of them right now? That last possibility made her quiver with a mixture of rage and excitement. Their guard was down, their pokemon were put away…if she acted quickly, then maybe she could—

"Hey, did you feel that?" Regi stood up, turned around, and took a few steps away from the fire—towards _her!_ "I think there's something in the—hey, who's out there? Why're you hiding in the bushes?"

They found her. Somehow, they knew where she was and they had _found her!_ No time to think, no time to plan, she had to act _now!_

Braixen ran out of the bushes, growling and snarling, with claws covered in white-glowing energy. She aimed for Regi first, but the human dodged her attack with surprising ease and it was all she could do from tripping face-first into the fire. She looked around frantically trying to find the humans—a blur of color, a nervous cough, give her _something_ she could use to figure out where they were!

"What!? A-a braixen!?"

The Fox pokemon turned sharply in the direction of the sound, just able to make out a blur of white and purple flickering in the light of the campfire. Braixen lunged at Hayden, ready to make good on her promise from earlier by the lake.

"Gah! Regi, hit her with Water Pulse!" Before she could parse the command, several waves of water crashed into her side and sent her sprawling to the ground. She tried to get up and attack again, but the water-type move left her dizzy and all she could do was trip and hurt herself.

There was a swooshing sound, and then something small and spherical tapped her on the head. The pokeball opened, and Braixen was swallowed inside in a flash of red energy. It shook once…twice…three times…

 _Click!_


	4. First Impressions

**Chapter 4: First Impressions**

* * *

It was five in the morning when the doors to the Santalune City Pokemon Center swished open. The attending nurse looked up from some paperwork on her desk to greet the approaching newcomer—a lean young man with black hair and violet eyes. Accompanying him was a slowking, a large pink creature with the features of a hippo and an otter, with a gray shellder "crown" sitting atop its head.

"Good morning! Welcome to the Pokemon Center. We restore your tired pokemon to full health. Would you like to rest your pokemon?"

"Please," he said, handing over a red-and-white pokeball to the pink-clad nurse. "She's a recent capture, and I'd appreciate it if you could give her a checkup. Preferably _without_ letting her out of her pokeball."

The nurse raised an eyebrow, but nonetheless complied and left to tend to his new pokemon. Hayden let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he did so. He looked down at his clothes—a white jacket left unbuttoned over a purple shirt, with black jeans and boots—and groaned at their condition.

"I guess that's what happens when you go camping in the woods for three weeks," he said to himself, resolving to wash his clothes in the near future.

"To be fair, white isn't really a good 'camping in the woods' color," said the slowking, arms folded behind him as he watched his trainer.

"Yeah, well, thankfully it doesn't look like we'll have to go back anytime soon," Hayden replied. He noticed that his first and only pokemon looked troubled. "Why the sour look Regi? You should be excited—we finally have another pokemon to add to our team!"

Regi unfolded his arms only to cross them in front of his chest. "I don't think that she'll share your enthusiasm," he said dully. "She _attacked us_ Hayden, seemingly for no reason. And you should have felt how angry she was."

Before he could reply, the nurse came back with his pokeball on a tray and sat it on the counter. "I've restored your braixen to full health," she started, "however, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for her visual impairment."

Hayden and Regi looked at each other before turning back to the nurse. "She's visually impaired?" Hayden asked.

"I would have thought that you'd already know," the nurse said suspiciously. "There's a group of scars over her right eye—judging by the markings, something clawed it out—and her left retina appears to have sustained heavy damage. I doubt she can see much of anything, and what she can is probably very blurred and distorted."

Hayden flinched, both at the described injury and the nurse's scrutiny. "It was dark ma'am, and I haven't let her out of her pokeball yet. She attacked us while we were camping, and we just now got back into town."

"I see then," the nurse said a little less critically. "If you don't mind my asking, what do you plan to do with her?"

"I'm…not sure," Hayden admitted as he put a hand to his forehead. "I can't just dump her back out in the forest—hell, it's amazing she's been able to survive out there to begin with!"

"Pokemon are amazing creatures. Never underestimate what they can do."

Hayden looked at Regi and smiled. "Believe me, I know what you mean." Letting out a sigh, he took the pokeball from the counter and said, "Then I guess I'm sticking to my original plan. Thanks for your help; I'm going to let her out in the corner over there and have a talk with her."

She seemed to find his wording odd, but nonetheless said, "Take care, and we hope to see you again!"

Hayden nodded and then walked over to the black couches in the corner of the room, his partner following behind him. "Are you sure this is wise?" Regi asked. "She might maul you the moment she's let out."

"I think that if she wanted to, she would have done so already," Hayden said knowingly.

"You didn't put her into stasis? You should have told me that," Regi said critically. "What if she'd popped out of her pokeball and tried to attack you? I wouldn't have been prepared."

"And that paranoia is why I didn't tell you," Hayden replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Besides, I wanted to give her a chance to rest."

"Hayden…"

"You worry too much," Hayden said, even though as he held the pokeball in his hand he was starting to get nervous himself. "Just you wait—by the time we're done, she'll already feel like a part of the family!" He started to throw the pokeball, but stopped to add, "You remember what we talked about earlier, right? About the 'surprise?' "

Regi let out a tired sigh, but smiled all the same. "Don't worry Hayden, I remember," he assured his trainer.

With that out of the way, Hayden lobbed the pokeball into the air and waited for the emergence of his newest catch. The ball bounced off the floor, hung in midair for a second, and with an audible _click_ split open.

A flood of light erupted from the pokeball, morphing and shifting before coalescing into Braixen. The Fox pokemon shook herself—she did not like being inside a pokeball _at all—_ before taking a moment to examine her new surroundings. There was a lot of white and red, and the ground felt like stone except that it was _unnaturally_ smooth. The air was different too—gone were all the familiar scents of wood, mud, and grass. In its place was the smell of a _lot_ of pokemon; some she recognized, most she didn't.

A polite cough prompted Braixen to turn around, and when she did she found two familiar blobs of white and pink. The two humans—rather, the human and the pokemon that could talk like a human—were standing there, apparently waiting for her to acknowledge their presence.

"Good morning," Hayden said warmly. "Did you sleep well?"

Braixen glared at him.

"…Yeah, okay, dumb question. I should've know better," Hayden admitted.

Braixen continued to glare at him.

"I, um…get the impression you're rather angry…and that most of it is directed at me."

That was an understatement.

"You know, _you're_ the one that attacked _us_ ," Hayden pointed out. "All things considered, I'm not sure you have the right to be—"

"Hayden, that's not helping," Regi interjected.

Hayden started to say something, but apparently reconsidered. "Right. Right…yeah, sorry." He cleared his throat and said, "Look, I think we've just gotten off on the wrong foot. My name is Hayden, and this is my friend Regi. I'm a pokemon trainer—specifically a psychic type specialist—and we'd like it if you would join us. We know you're upset—if it wasn't obvious before, it kind of is now—but I think that if you'll just give us a chance you'll find there's a lot to like about being a part of our team. So what do you say?"

Braixen pretended to consider his proposition. _"I'm surprised he listened to you,"_ she said, deciding to ignore Hayden entirely and focus on his friend. _"Your name's Regi, right? Are you actually a pokemon?"_

"I am," Regi answered. "I'm a slowking—part water type, part psychic type."

Braixen nodded. _"Do slowking normally talk like humans, or is that something you learned how to do?"_

"It was learned. I supposed you've never seen a slowking before?" A quick nod "no". "I'm not surprised—my species is not very common."

Braixen scoffed. _"What, did the human take you from your home too?"_

Regi snorted laughter. "No, I've known Hayden since I was just a humble little slowpoke."

" _I see then…so you've grown up with humans. No wonder you don't have any problems betraying your own kind."_

Regi started chuckling. "Your attempts at psychological manipulation are endearing, but ineffective," he replied matter-of-factly. "You don't seem to like humans very much. Is that why you attacked us in the forest?"

Braixen's ears drooped. " _I overheard you say that you were looking for delphox,"_ she answered. _"Both of my parents are delphox, and a little less than three weeks ago we were attacked by a group of humans trying to capture us. You said you'd been in the forest for roughly the same amount of time, so I thought maybe one of them was with you."_

"Is that so…? It's little wonder you're upset then." Regi took a breath and added, "I'm sorry—we're _both_ sorry—about what happened to you and your family, but we didn't have any part in it nor have we seen your parents. It sounds to me like they were attacked by poachers, and if that's the case they're probably long gone."

So that was it then. Any hope she had of ever finding them… Braixen's paws balled into fists, clawed digits burying into her flesh. _"How…did you find out about us in the first place? How did the other humans find out?"_

"Several months ago, a hiker spotted a family of delphox fighting with a pyroar," Regi explained. "Since then, the 'Delphox of Santalune Forest' have become pretty well-known across the entire region."

Braixen's eyes widened, horrified. The entire _region_ had known about them…? _"How many humans were trying to find us?"_

"I wouldn't know," Regi admitted. "I'm unsure how much you know about humans, but they have laws—a long list of rules—against disturbing pokemon far away from civilization."

" _Then why were_ you two _out there trying to find them?"_ Braixen asked pointedly. _"In fact, what's this all about anyway? Do you think talking to me is going to somehow make me warm up to you—make me feel_ better _about being captured?"_

" _Please_ calm down," Hayden said, speaking for the first time since the beginning of the conversation. "I…look, I shouldn't have caught you the way I did, I'll admit it, but you attacked, and I _reacted_ , and we'd spent three weeks looking and I thought maybe I should just—"

Braixen turned on Hayden, and she swore she heard a small _yipe_ come from his direction. _"Listen up human—or rather, listen to your stupid_ pet _, since you can't even understand me. I don't like you. I never_ will _like you. I don't even know why you want to keep me—you must_ _have noticed my eyes by now!"_

"The nurse did notify us of your condition, yes," Regi replied nonchalantly.

" _Then why!? Is this some kind of sick game to you, human? Am I part of some sort of weird collection? No, no, wait, I get it now—you wanted to use me to find my parents!"_

"Wait, what?" said Hayden. "No, hold on, that's not—"

" _That's what this is about, isn't it? Trying to manipulate me…make me drop my guard by telling me how 'sorry' you are or that you 'didn't mean to capture me'. Ha! Well jokes on you, because those other humans beat you to it!"_

"Wait, please, that's not why we—"

" _And even if I_ did _know where my parents were, I'd never tell you!"_ Braixen declared tearfully. _"In fact, you might as well get rid of me now, because there is no way that I'm ever going to—"_

 _Will you please stop talking and_ listen _to me for a moment!?_

Braixen yelped, so startled by the mental voice that she actually fell over backwards. She lay there for several minutes, staring at the ceiling, contemplating what she'd just heard. _"That was telepathy,"_ she said, more to herself than to anyone else. She sat up, looked at Hayden, and said, _"That was telepathy_. _You used telepathy!"_

 _I did,_ Hayden confirmed in mental deadpan.

" _But…but you're a human! He's a human right? Humans can't use telepathy!"_

 _Some of us can,_ Hayden projected, with a mental voice that perfectly matched his speaking voice. _There are people out there who are born with limited psychic ability. We're called 'psychics'—_

"An imaginative name, as you can tell," Regi snarked.

 _—and with proper training we can learn to use our abilities the same way that a psychic type pokemon would._

" _I…um…okay, wow. I don't know how to respond to that,"_ Braixen said as she got back to her feet. _"Wait, does that mean you could understand me before—that you can understand me now?"_

 _Every wor—_

" _Stop that,"_ Braixen growled. _"That's…I don't like that, your voice inside my head. It's_ weird. _"_

 _Huh? Oh, sorry about that._ Hayden cleared his throat and continued, "Like I was saying, yeah, I could understand you the whole time. I kind of wanted it to be a surprise, to impress you, but that didn't exactly go as planned."

"As Hayden said earlier, he's a psychic type specialist," Regi added. "The reason we were looking for your parents is because he wanted to _ask_ if one of them would join us. I personally opposed the idea, but he didn't want to listen to me."

Braixen's ears twitched. _"You disagreed with your human? Why?"_

"Many reasons, but mostly because I knew they would say no," Regi said matter-of-factly. "You're their daughter, so you tell me; am I wrong?"

Braixen thought of her father, and his outspoken hatred for humans. She then thought of her mother, who despite having a gentler impression was still leery of them. Add in the fact they were looking after her, and… _"Yeah, there was basically no chance of that ever happening."_

"Told you," Regi said smugly, earning an annoyed grunt from his master.

"Yeah, well…they would have said yes had I actually met them," Hayden insisted. "You of all people should know just how persuasive I can be."

" _Oh really?"_ Braixen replied, curious in spite of herself. _"Okay, I'll bite—how would you have done it? How would you have convinced either of my parents to leave their only daughter behind and willingly submit themselves to a life of servitude?"_

"It's not servitu— _ergh!_ " Hayden recomposed himself and said, "The same way I'm going to convince _you_ to stick with me and Regi—I'm going to teach you how to see again!"

Braixen blinked slowly. _"What."_

"I'll second that 'what,' " Regi added.

"Like I said, I'm a psychic type specialist," Hayden started. "There are all sorts of moves and abilities that deal with extrasensory perception. What kind of lousy psychic would I be if I couldn't teach you to use your abilities to do the same?"

" _Okay, but…how would that have convinced my parents?"_

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Well…the idea was that they'd be so impressed that they'd _want_ to join me," Hayden said. "Why, would that not do the trick?"

" _I think my dad would have roasted you before you had the chance,"_ Braixen said deadpan. _"But either way, I think you're full of it."_

"I am _not_ full of it!" Hayden insisted.

" _I'm not even a psychic type yet,"_ Braixen rebutted. _"I can use Psybeam, but that's about the extent of my 'psychic powers'. Even if you are telling the truth and you did know some super-special technique for seeing things with my mind, there's no way_ I _could do it!"_

"Oh really? Well then, let me ask you a question; have you ever done something that, when you stopped and thought about it, made you say, 'Wait a minute, how did I do that? That shouldn't have been possible!' "

She started to say no, but then the incident with the diggersby jumped into her mind. And even before that, the very fact she'd managed to escape the poachers was a minor miracle in and of itself. _"I might have,"_ Braixen answered with crossed arms.

"Then there you go! There are a lot of living things that have psychic potential, both human and pokemon. Your species in particular has a lot of it, because your final evolution _is_ a psychic type. You have the ability—you just have to learn how to use it."

Lacking a response, Braixen considered Hayden's offer. Did she really have the ability though? Could the human actually teach her? He seemed confident that he could, and Hayden's demonstration left no room for doubt of his psychic abilities. So what was stopping her from saying yes?

It started with a groan, which transitioned into a growl, was then accompanied by Braixen pulling at the fur on her head, and finally ended with a long, tired, and defeated sigh. _"I just want to get this out of the way; I still don't like you,"_ Braixen said to Hayden. _"I don't buy for a minute that you're doing this solely out of the goodness of your heart."_

"Glad to know you think so highly of me," Hayden quipped.

" _However,"_ Braixen continued, _"If you really can do what you say you can do…then, fine…I'll join you."_

"I'm glad to hear it!" Hayden said, his smile practically audible. The human took a step forward, bent down, and held something out to her—his hand probably. "Welcome to the team!"

Braixen looked at the outstretched limb for a minute, and then slowly held out her paw and allowed the handshake.

" _Right then,"_ Braixen began as she broke off the handshake and crossed her arms, _"so when do we get started?"  
_  
"Well," Hayden began, but paused to let out a long, deep yawn, "I'd like to start right now, but Regi and I were kind of up all night getting back to the Pokemon Center, so...we're going to take a nap first. See you in a few hours."

Before she could ask what Hayden meant by that, there was a flash of red light and Braixen found herself back inside the pokeball.


	5. Second Impressions

**Chapter 5: Second Impressions**

* * *

Three hours later—three slow, _agonizingly_ boring hours of drifting as an immaterial consciousness, only vaguely aware of the outside world—Braixen was released from her pokeball. Her new environment was a large room that smelled of weird foods, and was _full_ of humans and pokemon chattering loudly in their respective languages. She had no clue where she was except that it was inside and _probably_ the same building as earlier.

The disoriented fire type shook her head, muttering angrily to herself for allowing the human to put her back in the pokeball. She turned around, and was happy to find the silhouettes of Hayden and Regi standing behind her—but only because that meant she could give them a piece of her mind.

 _"Where are we!?"_ Braixen demanded. _"What's going on? Why was I in the pokeball? I thought you said you were going to train me!?"_

"And I am," Hayden replied plainly. "I told you, we needed a nap. And right now we're in the Pokemon Center's cafeteria. I figured you might be hungry."

Braixen started to object, but was interrupted by her growling stomach. A deep, painful growl that came from going an entire day and night without food.

 _"…Fine,"_ she huffed. _"First we eat, and_ then _you train me."_

Taking her by the paw, Hayden escorted the fire type to the other end of the room. She felt so _small_ in this place, a feeling not helped when Hayden had to help her clamber onto a chair and she could barely rest her arms on the table. It must have been an awkward sight; no doubt other humans looking at her found it amusing. Her suspicions were confirmed when a pair of blurred colors stopped in front of their table and giggled. Braixen turned her head away, preferring to scowl at the wall than acknowledge their presence.

Three bowls were sat down with a _clink—_ she hadn't even noticed Hayden was gone until now. She expected some kind of commentary from him, but no, merely the sound of him and his slowking munching and chewing their respective meals.

Braixen sniffed at her bowl. _"What exactly is this?"_

"Pokemon kibble," Regi answered between bites. "It's not the best tasting food in the world, but it'll fill you up all the same."

Braixen plucked a bit of the kibble out of her bowl and took an experimental nibble. It was…decent, like Regi said it would be. Soft and chewy, but not so much that it turned to mush in her mouth. It wasn't as juicy as a berry, but it had a richer flavor to compensate. Although the flavor itself was kind of odd…almost artificial. She supposed it made sense; humans created their own tools and shelters, so why not their own foods as well?

 _"It tastes weird,"_ Braixen admitted. _"Is that what I'm going to be eating all the time?"_

"Beggars can't be choosers," Regi said coolly. "Perhaps you'll come to appreciate it more with time."

The slowking's reply irked her, but Braixen decided it wasn't worth pursuing. Her curiosity had been satisfied at any rate, and right now she was _hungry._

In the end, Braixen decided it didn't matter. Her curiosity had been satisfied, and right now she was _hungry._

"Slow down, you'll make yourself sick!" Hayden warned as Braixen shoveled handfuls of kibble into her mouth. "How long has it been since you ate?"

 _"Abou' a dah,"_ Braixen admitted through a mouthful of food. _"I ha' a burry bus' to mysef beye a wever, buh was run ofh buh sum diggersbee."_

"Well, the only diggersby you'll find in here belong to other trainers, and I'd like to see them try to run you off with me and Regi around! So just relax—your food's not going anywhere, I promise."

Braixen slowed down, but not without glaring at Hayden first.

"Cool." Hayden paused for a moment before continuing, "By the way, since we're already talking, I wanted to ask—what kind of nickname do you want?"

Braixen blinked and then swallowed her food with an audible gulp. _"Nickname?"_

"Yeah, a nickname! Or just a regular name—like Maddie or Bree or something. Even wild pokemon have to have names, right?"

 _"Pokemon don't name themselves like humans do. We address each other by our species name, and let context handle the rest."_ Braixen furrowed her brows and added, _"I'm surprised you didn't know that. Wouldn't Regi have told you?"_

"I cannot remember my time as a wild slowpoke," Regi explained. "The species has an infamously poor memory, and it wasn't until I was captured that I evolved."

 _"Really? You don't remember_ anything? _"_

"Not a thing," Regi confirmed.

 _"I…see,"_ Braixen said.

Hayden cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. "Okay then, since you don't have a name, why don't I come up with one for you? I can think of some good ones off the top of my head."

Braixen growled, her ears falling flat against her head. _"I'm not your_ pet _, human! You don't get to name me like you did the slowking."_

"Actually, I chose my own name," Regi interjected. "It's based on the word 'Regis,' which was the term for an employee of a royal household. Slowking are known as the 'Royal' pokemon, so I thought it was a fitting moniker."

Braixen felt her eye twitch. _"…Yeah, well, that doesn't change what I said! And why does he care so much anyway?"_

"Because I don't like calling pokemon by their species name," Hayden said simply. "It just seems so…impersonal. And boring to boot."

Braixen muttered some frustrated babble under her breath. _"Alright,_ fine _. Just…let me think about it first."_

"No rush," Hayden said. "I'd rather you came up with a name you liked than I think up a half-dozen that you hate."

The fire type grumbled mutinously before taking another bite of her kibble.

The rest of their meal continued in silence. Braixen was grateful for that—she didn't know why, but something about the two and their very _presence_ seemed to set her off! Or was that because of her not having a stick? It was hard to tell honestly.

Her thoughts drifted away from her frustrations and towards the peculiarities of her new situation. It was so odd to just be _given_ food instead of having to scrounge for it. One of the tradeoffs of being captured she supposed; you had to do what the trainer said, but at least you got free food and shelter. Although it begged the question of what kind of opponents she'd be expected to face.

 _"Hey Hayden,"_ Braixen began, straightening up as she spoke, _"you said you're a trainer—a human that fights other humans and their pokemon. Who are we fighting that you specifically wanted a delphox?"_

Hayden made a sound like he was about to speak, but stopped himself short for some reason. "Well…first of all, there's more to being a trainer than fighting each other," he began to explain. "A trainer can just be someone that likes raising pokemon, they don't have to be competitive. And then there's people like me, type specialists that want to master our chosen type—to learn as _much_ as we can and push our abilities as _far_ as we can!"

"As for why Hayden sought out your parents, it's related to a more short-term goal," Regi added. "There's a gym in Anistar City that specializes in the psychic type. It's lead by a woman named Olympia, who is widely considered the most powerful human psychic in the Kalos region."

"Only strong psychics or trainers with a strong affinity for the type are allowed to train at her gym," Hayden continued. "Any trainer can have a battle there, sure, but only the best of the best get to be a _part_ of the gym itself!"

"We once challenged her to combat in a bid to prove our mettle," Regi said. "We lost, unfortunately, but it was still a good learning experience."

Hayden bolted upright, chair scraping against the floor as he did. "Yeah, but just you wait! One of these days, I'm going to surpass Olympia—not just as a battler, but in raw psychic ability too!"

Braixen blinked as she digested the information. _"You sound rather confident about that,"_ she observed.

"Of course I am!" Hayden replied. "I told you, I'm going to _master_ the psychic type! And I bet Olympia's never taught a pokemon to use their psychic powers to overcome _blindness_ before!"

There it was, the _real_ reason he'd kept her. She was a project—proof of his prowess as a trainer. Still though, his confidence was impressive, and if Regi's strength was any indication of Hayden's skill, that confidence was well earned.

"Anyway, that's where you come in," Hayden continued, simmering down a little. "When we lost, I made a promise that I'd be back in a year to re-challenge the gym. While I feel pretty good about myself and Regi, I've realized recently that I need someone besides him to rely on."

 _"How long ago was this challenge?"_ Braixen asked. _"Er, I guess what I mean is, how long do we have until the fight?"_

"About three months," Hayden answered.

Braixen did a double-take, and in doing so almost fell out of her chair. _"Three months!? You think I'll be ready to fight in only three_ months!?"

"Well…yeah. If I didn't think it could be done, I wouldn't even try." He waited a moment and added, "You'll fight with me, right? Because if you don't want to, that's fine, I just need to know now while I still have time."

Braixen was at a loss for words. It seemed impossible that she'd learn to use her powers _and_ be ready to fight this Olympia person in such a short amount of time! Then again _most_ things humans could do seemed impossible.

Hayden's unflinching confidence that she'd be ready certainly helped.

Braixen folded her arms, trying to regain a little composure, and huffed. _"I'll fight for you at the gym, to repay you teaching me, but don't try to force me to fight otherwise!"_ Giving her declaration some thought, she decided to add, _"And if I'm going to fight, then I'll need a new stick too!"_

"I was wondering about that," Hayden admitted. "Don't worry though, I think I've got a good substitute in mind. I'll show you once we get out of town."

Before Braixen could ask him to clarify, there was a flash of familiar red light, followed by the sensation of being broken down into living energy and existing as an immaterial consciousness. She was back in her pokeball again.

 _Dammit._

* * *

The ball opened an hour later, and Braixen was allowed back into the real world. She turned about, snarling, assuming Hayden was behind her again and determined to give him a piece of her mind...and froze.

Her field of vision was filled with blurs of blue and green. The sun was shining and warm. She could smell wood and grass and flowers. Braixen gasped; she was outside. She was back in the forest! For some reason Hayden had brought her back, and…and…no, wait, that wasn't true. She was _near_ the forest, but if she focused she could make out the subtle smell of pollutants that indicated human settlement. The grass was too short, and the smell of flowers was actually _too_ strong; someone had gone out of their way to plant as many of them as possible.

Braixen let out a heavy sigh. For the briefest moment, she'd thought she was home.

The fire type turned, and saw Hayden and his slowking had been standing to the _right_ of her instead of behind. Their white and pink silhouettes stood out well enough against the blurs of green, brown, and blue.

Braixen curled her lips, teeth showing, wanting so badly to just _scream_ at Hayden…but reconsidered when a cough from Regi reminded her that the slowking was watching. So she straightened up and quietly asked, _"Where are we?"_

"Route 4," Hayden answered, voice a little awkward; maybe he'd picked up on her frustration. "I...I thought you might appreciate training here instead of inside the Pokemon Center. Most of the route is a giant garden, although we stopped just short of that part; trainers like to hang out in the hedge mazes."

Braixen nodded somberly, before sobering up a little and asking, _"Are you ready to start training me then?"_

Hayden made that sound again, where he cut himself off mid-syllable before apparently swapping out answers. "Yeah, I'm ready. Have a seat."

Braixen sat down, cross-legged, tail swishing idly as she watched Hayden do the same and awaited his tutelage.

"First thing you should know is this won't be training in the way you're used to, at least not at first," Hayden explained. "True mastery over psychic power isn't something you train; it's something you _learn._ It's about perception and understanding more than raw strength."

Braixen wasn't sure what to make of that, but nodded along anyway.

"Cool, glad you understand. So first, a question; how do you think psychic powers work?"

Braixen cocked her head to the side; was this a trick question? _"It's like the other types, you focus on the energy and use it to—"_

"Nope," Regi interrupted, reminding her that the slowking was participating. Braixen rewarded his efforts with a scowl.

"Try being a little more specific," Hayden encouraged. "Where does the power for psychic-based attacks _come_ from?"

Braixen had to think a little harder for this one. _"It…comes from your mind, right? Fire types have this 'internal flame' they use, so a psychic type draws energy from their brain to—"_

"Wrong again."

 _"Oh fuck off!"_

"Hey! _No!_ None of that!" Hayden said sternly. "You too Regi—quit it!"

"I'm merely saving time," Regi replied coolly. "You know she won't give you the right answer."

Hayden grumbled something incoherent. "The reason you're wrong Braixen is because psychic energy is an _external_ source of energy. I was trying to gauge how well you understood this, but _somebody_ is being a jerk."

Braixen furrowed her brows. _"But…that doesn't make sense! When I use Psybeam, it_ feels _like I'm drawing from my own energy."_

"You're drawing from your mental reserves, but the actual power of the attack is not your own," Hayden explained. "Psychic phenomena is everywhere—it's a power that permeates everything around us. What makes a psychic type pokemon psychic is that they are naturally attuned to this energy and have an instinctual understanding of how to use this power to fuel their abilities. Part of why that is has to do with brain structure and such, but that's probably more detail than you care about."

Braixen turned her gaze downward, trying to wrap her mind around what Hayden was saying. _"I'm still confused,"_ she admitted. _"If my abilities are based on instinct, then why do I have to 'learn' my attacks? Why don't I already know my other psychic type moves?"_

"Well, 'awareness' and 'application' aren't the same thing," Hayden answered. "You might be subconsciously _aware_ of the energy and able to draw from it, but that doesn't mean you know how to turn it into an attack."

 _"Then why are you telling me this? Why does it matter where the energy comes from if I still have to learn how to use it?"_

"Because if you rely solely on instinct, you'll never truly master your abilities." The human sounded deathlyserious. "A true master of psychic power is able to control and manipulate the energies around them in whatever way they see fit. You can't do that without being able to consciously recognize and control that power"

The fire type grumbled, paw to her chin, doing everything she could to try and understand what Hayden was asking of her. _"You're basically asking me to ignore my instincts and 'learn' how to do something I wasn't even aware I was doing. How does that work? Where do I even start?"_

Regi was the one to respond this time. "Meditation, experimentation, and a _lot_ of aggravation. It's not something you'll learn overnight; however, if you desire to master abilities outside your natural inclinations, it's entirely necessary."

Without thinking, Braixen took a paw and touched the scar tissue surrounding her right eye. She regretted the action almost instantly; now was not the time to be showing weakness.

" _I understand,"_ Braixen said with forced politeness.

"Good," said Regi with the barest hint of smugness. She chose to ignore it.

"On a brighter note," Hayden quickly interjected, "I have a gift for you." Braixen listened to Hayden root around in his bag before he pulled out something shiny and tossed it into her lap.

Braixen picked up the item, surprised by its cold, metallic feel. Driven by curiosity, she ran her paw across the object's surface, discovering it was some kind of shallow bowl connected to a thin handle with a bend in the middle.

 _"What…is this exactly?"_ she asked, gripping the handle and swinging the item experimentally through the air.

"It's a spoon," Hayden answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Braixen raised a brow. _"A…spoon?"_

"A spoon. Not just any spoon, mind; it's a _twisted_ spoon!"

Braixen's brow arched higher.

"Spoons are utensils that humans use to eat things with," Regi supplied. "More importantly, _that_ spoon is imbued with psychic-type energy. Although I'd argue personally that it's more like a ladle."

"Semantics," Hayden said dismissively. _"_ Anyway, it acts like an amplifier when using psychic type attacks. Normally I let Regi use it when battling, but we both agreed that you needed it more—especially if you're missing your stick."

Braixen held the over-sized spoon up to her eye and squinted at it. She wasn't sure how she felt about this metal… _thing_ replacing her stick. If it was as useful as the human said, however, it was foolish not to accept it.

The fire type took the utensil and stuffed it into the fur at the base of her tail. Almost immediately, a rush of relief washed over her. For the first time since the diggersby attacked her, it felt like Braixen could think clearly.

 _"…thanks,"_ Braixen said reluctantly.

Hayden scooted closer, and surprised Braixen by putting a hand on her shoulder. "You're going to do just fine, and Regi and I will be there to help you every step of the way. I promise."

Braixen stood still for a moment, then pushed Hayden's hand away from her shoulder. She then fixed him with a steely glare; she would not drop her guard that easily.

"…Right. Guess we better get started then." Hayden stood up, joined shortly after by his slowking. "Regi and I are going to work on combat training. In the meantime, I want you to work on what we talked about. Try using your abilities, and either before or as you're using them, look for where the energy is actually coming from."

 _"You're leaving? What about that 'we'll be helping you every step of the way' crap you just said?"_

"Regi and I don't want to distract you," Hayden explained. "Psychic power is about perception; I can give you advice, but ultimately _you're_ going to have to be the one to figure it out. There's not much I can do about that." A pause, and he added, "That said, I'll be coming back over here now and again to check up on you. I'll answer your questions as best as I can."

And with that, Hayden and Regi walked away. Braixen watched them go, the blurs of color swallowing them up the further they got away, until finally they were gone entirely. The fire type turned away, pulling her new spoon out of the base of her tail and examining it closely.

There was so much to take in. Her powers, her training, Hayden's goals... The grip around the spoon tightened, and for a moment Braixen wondered if she really was up to the task set before her.

Braixen turned her head and stared into the woods. Three weeks she'd spent there, helpless, homeless, and completely at the mercy of her fellow pokemon. Was it really so bad to want to change that—to believe that she was _capable_ of changing that?

Braixen's grip on the spoon loosened, and she let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Right. Time to get to work.


End file.
